As Men Will
by May Eve
Summary: Oneshot based about a decade after Draeconin's "Honour Bound". Severus wondered at the anomaly...but fled at the answers, as men will. Not Snarry or HPSS.


A/N: Oneshot based about a decade after Draeconin's _Honour Bound_, http : // draeconin . com / tales / stories / hb-01 . htm You probably want to read that first, or this will be more than a tad confusing. It's a wonderful fic, though if HPDM isn't your cup of tea it might be tough to swallow (pun not intended). If that's the case, you can still read this; you might get a little confused with details but it should mostly explain itself and there's no mention of the slash.

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As Men Will

I have watched now for years as the teenage boy I had sworn to grew into the king he was meant to be. He had grown into a powerful ruler and even, grudgingly, earned my respect.

But there was always something off between us. I knew the boy—_man—_ trusted me with his life. He had said so more than once. But that was it. Even as I watched, my king grew to forgive and befriend many of those he had once called enemy, yet we never grew closer.

There were no smiles, no laughter, no quiet conversation by the fireplace with a glass of bourbon and some music. While the old animosity between us was legendary, those times had long past and I held him in high regard. I honestly could not say whether I desired such a relationship—I rather doubted it—but I could not help being curious of the anomaly.

One day, when I was called in to advise my king about a new potion being developed for werewolves, I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me.

"What would it take? What would it take for you to trust me like you trust so many others?"

I had not meant for the question to come out in such a way, but I realized that was at the root of the issue. Trust. While my sovereign trusted me with his life, he trusted me with little else. Nothing personal, nothing special, nothing outside of necessary business. When the Consort was first with child, I was among the last in the palace to learn, then only from gossip. When the king's familiar grew ill, I was not informed until his distraction began to affect his work, and these but a few instances.

The regal figure merely stared at me in silence for several moments. Then he laughed sharply, bitterly, and I nearly flinched, "Nothing. There is nothing you could possibly do to change our relationship."

"Why?" I did not mean for it to come out sounding so…plaintive. This was only a matter of minor curiosity for me, after all.

He examined me for a moment more and, cliché as it seems, I felt as though he could see into my heart and soul, know all there was to know of me.

"I trust you with my life, Professor. But I will never trust you with more. Nothing could possibly change that. Now, after so many years, you want to know why? Then I will tell you, because maybe I owe you that much."

"In all the time I have known you, Professor, you have never given me reason to trust you with anything more than my life. At one point, you had a choice. You had a chance—one chance—to fix it. To make amends. And you threw that chance away as though it were nothing."

Again, I almost flinched at the harshness of his voice. I was bemused, I admit, for at the time I did not understand what he was saying. Unfortunately, it only grew worse as he continued.

"You seem confused, Professor. You still don't understand? Fine. I will speak plainly. When all of this was only beginning and I had just been Re-Sorted into Slytherin, I gave you a chance. But I realized quite early on that nothing could change between us. Because no matter how much you helped me, how often you had saved my life, none of it mattered. Even as the Heir of Slytherin, even when you found out I should have been a Slytherin from the start, or when I became one at last, you never saw me for one of your own. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, I was never…enough, never good enough, to be one of yours. To have your care and protection as I should have as a part of your house."

He paused here, lost in memories and long-buried resentment. When he spoke once more, it was softer, almost…wistful.

"I had hope, you know. For just a little while, I had hope that you would give me a chance. That finally, _finally,_ I had found an adult that would care about me, who I could count on to look out for my best interests, to guide me, to claim me as one of their own. I would have done anything for your approval. To have you look at me with the same fierce pride you offered my housemates. But all I ever got was spite, until you at last faced facts and begrudgingly began to count me as a Slytherin. And that's all I ever got: a sort of reluctant, disdainful obligation."

By this point I could practically feel his magic floating, twisting and writhing, in the air around us as his emotions mounted. Power expanding around me as only my king, the King of the Magical World, Harald Myrrdin Slytherin-Gryffindor, once Harry Potter, could manage so easily. The jade green of his gaze was burning into me now, scorching me in all the vulnerable places I thought so well-defended.

"You want to know why we can never have anything more than a bare civility. Why I cannot trust you, not really. Is this enough? Do you understand now, _Professor Snape_?"

And this time, I did flinch, for I had not heard such loathing from him in a very long time and the weight of his power was beginning to weigh on me like a heavy cloak, smothering me without remorse or consideration.

He watched me dispassionately. All the fire had gone out of him once he finished his impromptu speech, though his power had hardly calmed. Only when I fell to my knees and began to gasp for breath did the weight finally lessen. As I panted on my knees before him, he rose with all the grace he had become so natural to.

"Leave."

His voice was soft and firm and covered a sea of pain and all the awful emotions that haunt us at three in the morning as we lie awake, hopelessly trying to salvage our rest.

And I left. Because I knew a dismissal when I heard one and because…I knew when I was in over my head. All I could do after this was toss a bucket of water on a building that had already burned down, a long, long time ago.

And to the tune of shattering glass, I fled from my mistakes, as men will. Courage was for lions and I was a snake.

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A/N 2: If this seems off in flow or some such, please let me know so I can fix it. I wrote this at around 2 in the morning and I wasn't all that lucid.


End file.
